


I’m Talking About Spontaneity

by luvtessascott



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 11:46:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13146027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luvtessascott/pseuds/luvtessascott
Summary: Even the thought of taking it out gives me goosebumps. Stepping out of the shower, I can’t get the thought out of my head. It makes my heart race and I feel dizzy. Fuck, this is impulsive alright.





	I’m Talking About Spontaneity

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Elenoraloves](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Elenoraloves).



> Written as a present for @elenoraloves for Secret Santa! Thanks to @balletfever89 & @tessaandscotttrash for editing.

~~Scott’s POV~~

  
I remove my jacket and hang it on the back of the chair settling down in my seat. I stare out the window and observe how a soft layer of snow coats the streets of Montreal. Tessa takes the seat in front of me and sighs, also removing her coat and tossing her gloves on the table wet from the snow.

  
Tessa props her chin on her fist with a pout at her lips, “I don’t know why being spontaneous is important.”

  
I chuckle thinking back to just minutes ago at the rink.

_“I want you guys to go out,” Marie insisted as Tessa and I stretched post-workout in the studio._

_  
Tessa’s face contorted as she responded back “We do go out.”_

_  
“Well you’re the only couple here on a Friday evening, let alone a week before Christmas. Skip out on your ‘schedule’ and go have fun.”_

_  
I bit my lip looking over at Tessa who takes Marie’s opinion to heart more than others’ opinions. We don’t over throw the schedule often…ever._

_  
“Marie, I get that, you know that we don’t go out as much as the others but we do have fun.”_

_  
“I’m talking about spontaneity. Do you ever do something impulsive? You’re young! You should be. Go do things.” With that closing statement Marie walked out._

  
“I think her point was about having fun,” I suggested reviewing her words in my head.

  
“We have fun! Training is fun!” Tessa insists.

  
“Training is fun” I agree adding, “Our Saturday nights are fun.”

  
Tessa nods enthusiastically, “Take out and movies and cuddles are fun.”

  
“And we go out sometimes,” I remind, “We went to see Cirque du Soleil and we go to the movies…or like parties sometimes.”

  
Tessa shrugs, “The occasional party.”  
A comfortable silence set over us as our coffees were set down and we mulled over our experiences of fun. I think about how much fun we had in our early months in Montreal, exploring every little corner of the city. Finding tiny cafes, like this one, to get settled in.

  
I think of the hot summer days when we’d jog across the bridge and find cute dogs to pet. Followed by listening to Tessa’s long list of potential dog names in case she ever got one but then she’d re-convince herself she is a cat person. Rambling about how dog names can’t always apply as cat names.

  
I’d listen to her, but mostly I’d spend that time memorizing every single feature I love about her. There are just too many.  
My eyes drift back to watch her. Her ponytail not as high as it was pre-workout, her expression deep in thought as she stares into her coffee. She has concentration creases carved into her forehead and a soft shadow below her eyes.

  
I wonder if she’s sleeping enough lately, always so restless. I’ve insisted on going home most weeknights lately, we both know we can’t get too reliant on sleeping together. It’ll ruin our nights at competitions when we’re forced to sleep apart. Still though, I worry how long she spends trying to fall asleep and if she stays in bed when she can’t sleep if I’m not there to hold her.

  
For a moment, I let my mind drift to post-Olympics, it’s not as uncertain it was before Sochi. I don’t feel the gut-wretch anxiety of ‘we’ll see’.  
I know I’ll have Tessa and we’ll stay in Montreal. We’ll move in together and we’ll make decisions—big life altering decision and small inconsequential decisions. We’ll get married one day and we’ll have children. Those are things that we know are firm and are not ‘we’ll see’ Yes, there are some “we’ll sees” but I’m content with where we are right now and where we’re going to be, making “we’ll see’ feel so much better. Especially when they’re with the girl across the table.

  
“What are you smiling about?” Tessa asks leaning forward towards me with her shoulders.

  
“Us.” I reply running my tongue across my bottom lip to moisten them.

  
“What about us?” She asks with a head tilt.

  
“Our future.”

  
“We’ve got a real big adult future ahead of us,” Tessa says in a childlike tone.

  
“We do Virtch, that’s why we’re boring …because we’re adults.”

  
Tessa sinks back in her seat, “Is that what Marie is telling us? That we’re acting old so we’re not spontaneous?”

  
“Tess, we’re just not in a place where spontaneity works. We know the schedule works. So we stick to it.”

“It’s true, spontaneity doesn’t win gold medals… schedules do.” Tessa says seriously pulling out her planner and placing it on the table. She flips it open to today’s date.

  
“I like my schedule. I like to know that I’ll have breakfast at this time and be on the ice at that time. That we’ll have Tuesday on the bike and right after I’ll have physio.”

  
“It’s 3:25, where should you be?”

  
Tessa sighs “napping before groceries and then yoga.”

  
“Hm yes, my phone says I have modern dance with Liam at 4:30.”

  
“Is it possible to schedule too much? I mean… maybe we’re overdoing it?” Tessa wonders rubbing her hand through her ponytail with a worried look on her face. “I don’t know about that…”

  
“I schedule everything,” leaning forward to whisper she adds, “I even schedule sex.”

  
“You schedule our sex?” I whisper back a bit louder than Tessa would like so she squeezes my hand on the table. I look around to the relatively empty café.

  
Tessa diverts eye contact, “I schedule a late gym morning on Thursdays so we can sleep later.” She looks up at me noticing my confused expression, “That’s why Wednesdays is our night.”

  
I ponder a bit perplexed that I haven’t realized the pattern, “You mean most Wednesdays you assume we’re going to…”

  
“You haven’t noticed you’ve got lucky every Wednesday night?”

  
“I legitimately thought it was my charm,” I say holding my heart to amuse her.

  
Tessa grins and shakes her head, “You’re cute. Keep thinking that.”

  
“Okay, well let’s plan something spontaneous for tomorrow.” I suggest.  
Tessa flips open her planner to write a reminder.

  
“Oh.” She says her lips pursed before they spread into a smile.

  
“What?” I ask raising an eyebrow.

  
“Saturday is our anniversary,” she reveals.

  
I hold up a finger, “It can’t be because our anniversary is December 16th and I put a reminder in my phone and it’s….Saturday.” Tessa giggles, “it’s okay…it crept up on me too.”

  
“Happy almost 3 years,” I grin at her childishly.

  
“Or 20” I say at the same time as Tessa and we both burst into laughter.

  
“Okay Saturday, we’ll both plan one spontaneous thing for us to do together. Good?” I ask.

  
“Around gym time,” Tessa reminds.

  
“Yes of course.” I affirm, “I’ll take evening.” I suggest. Tessa bats her eyelashes a knowing smirk on her face, “Morning and afternoon it is.”

  
“What are you gonna do?” I ask her with a pout. Tessa’s good at games. All kinds of games, never prank Tessa or she’ll pay you back when you least expect it.

  
“I got ideas,” she giggles.

  
“Play nice T.”

  
**~~Tessa’s POV~~**

  
When I arrive back at my apartment I examine what’s left of my schedule in my journal. Fuck spontaneity. Let’s see—nap missed…, snack… sort of completed. I walk over to the fridge and grab a bag of carrots. Returning to my journal and popping a carrot into my mouth, I continue reading ‘groceries’. Pulling the stick note with my grocery list off the fridge, I groan. Adulting sucks.

  
Checking the time, I decide to make groceries a round trip with yoga and continue to rack my mind for spontaneous ideas as I fill up my water and get ready to leave. Despite telling Scott I had a plan, I certainly do not. I just like to make him squirm.

  
Through the entire grocery trip, the thought of ‘spontaneity’ makes me question every item on my list and I end up buying food that I doubt I’ll end up eating, for the sake of it. Yoga, however, provides the well needed break from my mind and I leave feeling lighter.

  
After unloading groceries in the kitchen, I toss my keys and my phone on the front table. I pull out my pre-planned dinner and warm it up eating in front of the computer while I check my emails. Yes, everything is a routine. I relax on the couch after dinner getting caught up in some home decorating shows.

My neck feels stiff when I wake up realizing I fell asleep on the couch. I stretch my neck and my arms feeling wide awake after my nap, at 10:36PM. See what happens when I mess with my schedule and miss nap time?

  
I head to my closet to ready myself for my shower, which now is much later than it was planned. _Do you ever do anything impulsive?_ Marie France’s words echo through my head as I pull my shirt over my head tossing it behind me into the basket.

  
_You’re young. You should be._ My leggings follow my shirt and I roll my eyes at the thought. I miss the basket with my sports bra and it hits my foot. Bending over to pick it up, my eyes catch the black box with the delicate writing ‘Aubade Paris’. Impulsive. Spontaneous.

Continuing into the shower my mind flashes back to Paris last year. _“You don’t need to try it on just buy it.”_

_  
“Jordan do you know how expensive this is?”_

_  
“Shut up, just buy it.”_

_  
“But what am I going to do with this?”_

_  
“Every girl needs a set. You’ll want it someday.”_

_  
“I’m never going to wear it ever.”_

_  
“Well keep it until you decide to. Now are you paying, or do I?”_

  
Even the thought of taking it out gives me goosebumps. Stepping out of the shower, I can’t get the thought out of my head. It makes my heart race and I feel dizzy. Fuck, this is impulsive alright. I hate Jordan.

  
I run the brush through my hair and commence drying it. I feel sick. I consider bailing but I can’t stop hearing Marie, _You’re young. You should._

  
Walking over to my closet, I pull the box out tucked right at the bottom. It hasn’t even been opened. I sit on my bed pulling the ribbon off the box. I take a deep breath committing myself to doing this. I settle the box in front of me and pull open the tissue paper.

  
I pick up the thin spaghetti straps of the body suit. How is this so expensive when there’s hardly any fabric on it? The black bodysuit has parts of black lace that cover the intimate areas with straps of black elastic connecting the thong to the bra and building up the back half of the suit. I lay back on the bed figuring out how I’m going to build up the courage to wear this, let alone in front of Scott. Maybe it won’t fit and I can bail.

   
Fake it till you make it. I undo my robe and pull up the body suit up finding the secret snaps. I grit my teeth when I look at the stocking tucked into a small box. The stupid clips hanging from the waist are just in the way without the stockings.

_“The garter belt is excessive.” I tell Jordan._

_  
“Guys love it okay, just go with it.”_

  
Guys…. Scott better appreciate this. I slip the stockings up and clip them onto the body suit. If you’re going to go out, you might as well go full out. I slip the robe back on for the time being and pull my hair up into a sophisticated high bun. I pull out my make-up turning to my smoky eye kit to compliment the look. I give myself a pep-talk as I add red lips–exude confidence, channel sex appeal, YOU CAN DO THIS. I can’t bring myself to examine the full look in the mirror but I exchange my comfy robe for a black silk cover-up and slip on my heels.

I tie up my trench coat and I head out in sight of Scott’s apartment just two blocks down.

  
**~~Scott’s POV~~**

  
“SCOREEE!” Half the couch erupts into cheers as the Leafs score another goal.

  
“We’re going to win tonight boys,” I say high-fiving Liam.

  
“It’s not over till it’s over Moir,” Mik reminds through gritted teeth.

  
I stand collecting the empty beer cans and half eaten plates of nachos to dispose of in the kitchen. This is fun, having a boy’s night. Marie is right, a little spontaneity doesn’t hurt.

  
“Scott, door!”

  
I step out of the kitchen, “What?”

  
“There was a knock,” adds Zach. None of the boys move from the couch, all of them engrossed in the last period of the game. Checking the time as I walk to the door, I wonder who would be knocking at my door at 11:51pm.

  
As soon as my hand touches the door the thought crosses my mind—Tessa. Pulling the door open, my breath catches. Tessa in full make-up and a black trench coat. I blink hard taking in the sight in front of me as she stands poised in heels. Her smirk quickly fades and she stumbles back noticing people in the background. My mouth feels dry as I register the hurt in her face.

  
“Moir, who is it? Come back you’re missing the ass kicking,” yells Liam.

  
“Is it a booty call? Who comes to your apartment so late?” Mik jokes.

  
“Oh, Hi Tessa. You look nice.” Zach says coming out of the kitchen with another beer. Mik leans forward looking over at the door, “Wow Tessa, you clean up nice.” He raises an eyebrow at me and looks at his watch.

  
My face feels hot as I listen to their comments and I’m desperate to cover it up.

  
“Shut up guys, it’s not a booty call and I knew she was coming to uhm pick up this.” I reach into the front hall closet pulling out a garment bag. I quickly grab my keys to make sure I don’t lock myself out and step out into the hall way closing the door behind me. I hook the garment bag on the door handle.

  
Tessa standing like a deer caught in the headlights and her previously confident stature having melted in seconds. She covers her mouth. “I’m so stupid, I shouldn’t have—“

  
I cut her off pulling her into a hug, “It’s okay. You didn’t know.”

  
“You never have people over on a Friday.” She says defending herself.

  
I reach back and rub my fingers through my hair, “Being spontaneous?”

  
“As was I,” she says through gritted teeth.

  
“Well you look beautiful.” I whisper tucking a hand under her lowered chin.

  
“Was going for sexy…” She whispers back. Locking eyes with me she adds, “I’m in five hundred dollar French lingerie.”

  
My eyes widen, “Is that all you’re wearing uhh-under?” I stutter.

  
Tessa tightens the belt on her coat and crosses her arms nodding.

  
My hand goes to my head, “Jesus, Tessa did you walk here in that at this time?!”  
Tessa shoves her hands in her pocket and looks down.

  
“Fuck” I mutter. My heart races with the thought of something happening to her trying to pull this off. “Forget the fact that it’s cold, don’t you think about safety?”

  
“It’s two blocks Scott.”

  
“That’s beside the point, okay?”

  
Tessa glances back at the door and then to the elevator. Seeing her discomfort softens my resolve. “Listen, take my car. I’ll kick these guys out in 15 minutes tops when the game is done and I’ll come over to your place.”

  
“Okay,” she mutters still looking at the floor.

My heart hurts, in no way do I want her to think that I’m not enjoying her surprise. It’s just ill-timed and I need to let her know that. I step forward and pull her to my lips roughly tugging at hers. “Don’t change, I’m looking forward to it,” I tell her with a seductive smile.

  
**~~Tessa’s POV~~**

  
I pace the front hall of my apartment in my heels, waiting. I can’t believe Scott’s idea of impulsivity is a boy’s night to watch hockey. What a… a boy. I pick up my trench coat from the floor and toss it into the floor of the hall closet refusing to hang it up. I tug my black silk cover-up down so it’ll cover more of my body but it doesn’t help much—still showing where the garter connects to the stockings.

  
The longer I wait, the angrier I get. Oh Scott Moir is going to get a piece of my mind for making me wait. Finally, I hear three successive knocks on the door. I pull it open, “You better make it up to me.” I tell him firmly.

  
“You bet I will.” He wraps his arms around me kicking the door closed behind him while he feverishly tugs at my lips. 

  
“Is this it?” He asks pulling back his hands at my waist. A deep laugh escapes from my mouth, “Oh babe.” I pull out of his hold and walk away from him towards the bedroom. I undo the robe as I walk away slowly inching it off my shoulders and tossing it onto the floor. When I reach the bedroom door, I turn around leaning against the door.

  
He stands frozen where I left him, his hands balled into fists and lip parted. Just the way I like him, totally in the palm of my hand. “Coming?” I ask him with a head tilt running my hand across my body.

  
“Tessa, Fuck.”

  
When I wake up in the morning, I reach out to feel him and snuggle my face into his back for warmth. I nestle closer rearranging my leg that’s asleep tangled between his two. Tucking my hands under his arms as I give him a squeeze.

  
“Mhmm” he mumbles pushing his body closer to mine. I hold him tighter adding kisses to his shoulder and rubbing my hand down to feel the ridges in his abs. He loves to be the little spoon, no matter how much he denies it. Mornings where I cuddle up to him, he loves. He rolls over onto his back and tucks me under his arm refusing to open his eyes. I trace his jaw line with my fingers as I lay lazily across his chest.

  
He shakes his head, “tickles.”

  
I giggle and replace my finger with my lips kissing his jaw line.

  
“Better,” he comments. Curiosity gets the better of me when I wonder what we’re doing for our spontaneous day.

  
“Scott?” I ask tucking my hand behind his neck pulling at his hair.

  
His eyes flutter open and a smile across his lips, “Yes?”

  
“What are we doing today?”

  
“Check the drawer,” he motions pointing to the side table. I wiggle my way off him and pull the drawer open seeing an envelope with the words Grands Ballet across the front of the envelope.

  
I gasp escapes my lips as I roll over, “We’re going to the nutcracker?” I ask quietly.

  
He slips his arm under my body rolling me back to him, “Bought them for our anniversary months ago. Was a surprise.” He kisses my temple.

  
“Awww you are so sweet!” I press my face into his and kiss the corner of his mouth.

  
“You’re also probably missing your flower delivery,” he adds squinting at the clock.

  
“I love you,” I tell him my whole body feeling warm and giddy.

  
“Oh by the way!” I tell him sitting up.

“Okay so 16th is final media day in Toronto right and then 17th we’re training with David for the day. I moved our flight later I think it’s like 10:30pm now”.

  
Scott shrugs, “Okay, why though?”

  
“Got you Leafs tickets.”

  
“No way! Nice, thanks T.” He sits up quickly pulling me to onto his lap for a hug.

  
“You know, I don’t think we need spontaneity. We do just fine with surprises even if they are pre-planned,” Scott tells me stroking my arms.

  
“Yeah, I agree,” I say sinking back against his chest. He wraps his arms around my shoulders and leans into nuzzle my neck.

  
“Hey, did I dream that you wore a black—“

  
“Shut up! Shut up! If you ever want to see me in that again you’re never ever allowed to talk about it!” I say covering his lips and giggling.

  
“Deal” he says rolling me down to the bed and sliding on top. “I believe I’m supposed to make it up to you.”

  
“Well then you better get busy.”


End file.
